Page:Tristram of Lyonesse and other poems (IA tristramoflyonesswinrich).pdf/264

246 The best men’s tongue that ever glory knew Called that a drop of dew Which from the breathing creature’s kindly womb Came forth in blameless bloom. We have no word, as had those men most high, To call a baby by. Rose, ruby, lily, pearl of stormless seas— A better word than these, A better sign it was than flower or gem That love revealed to them: They knew that whence comes light or quickening flame, Thence only this thing came, And only might be likened of our love To somewhat born above, Not even to sweetest things dropped else on earth, Only to dew’s own birth. Nor doubt we but their sense was heavenly true, Babe, when we gaze on you, A dew-drop out of heaven whose colours are More bright than sun or star, As now, ere watching love dare fear or hope, Lips, hands, and eyelids ope, And all your life is mixed with earthly leaven. O child, what news from heaven?